Running away
by FleurMiroir
Summary: As Jugram is dying, he has a vivid dream of his first encounter with Bazz. And regret has never tasted so bitter.


_**A/N** : Another short drabble retelling the events of Jugram's and Bazz-B's encounter, with some added elements of my own. I found there were some interesting hints implied here and there in the Friends chapter, but that weren't expended on, which inspired me to write this one-shot._

* * *

Jugram holds tightly on this arc and bows, his stomach knotting with anticipation as he watches his uncle, head resting on the table amongst empty jars of wine, his loud snoring echoing within the room, covering the noise of the crackling, dying fire . _He's alseep now. You can do this_ … He tells himself, holding on his arc still, as if scared it'd be taken away from him. Do it before he wakes up… His mind begs. His eyes briefly shifting to the door, in an attempt to give himself courage, he finally raises. Trying to ignore the shaky feeling in his legs and endeavors to cross the room on his tip toes.

His pulse starts racing, when his moist hands insert the key, he's managed to steal earlier today, in the lock. God, what does this make so much noise? What on earth he's doing? _What if uncle wakes up? It's going to be bad, isn't it? What I am going to do?_ He tries to chase the thoughts from his mind and focus on getting the damn door to open, while he still has the courage to do so. _Please, please_ … He pleads, his heart about to explode from his chest.

When it finally opens, he can feel a surge of adrenaline fills him, but he knows this is the decisive step and he can't afford to mess up. He pushes very lightly and pulls it back just as lightly. Then, he runs as fast as he can into the dark of the woods. He has no idea where he's going, all he knows is that it has to be far, far from here. When he can't run anymore, he walks until exhaustion and fear get him.

He leans against a tree, sitting, his head resting on his knees. Why is he doing this? He hates the dark and he hates night. There could be wolves and bears creeping out there. Maybe this is a terrible idea. He should go back, maybe…

No, he shakes his head. Nights are short during summers. The sun should raise soon. This is just another bad moment to get through. It's far better than going to that place.

—

The sun finally raises, after what seems like an eternity. He's barely managed to get any sleep, too scared and still shaken up by the realisation of what's happened. He has no idea where he exactly is, but he figures he shouldn't stay here too long and keeps on walking, in case his uncle or someone in the village should find him and try to bring him back. His stomach is growling, he probably should try to find something to eat, too.

He keeps walking without an aim, his legs hurting and his eyes circled, picking berries on bushes alongside the way. But they won't fill his stomach or hunger. He probably should hunt.

—

He sighs after another fail attempt. Why is it so difficult? It sure doesn't look like it when other people do it, he thinks, watching the rabbit run away.

"Uh." His whole body freezes, feeling a presence behind him, scared to look back. "Who are you?" He asks tentatively. No, what now…

"Why should, I, Bazz, introduce myself first, huh? You tell me your name first." A loud and rather obnoxious voice responds.

So his name is Bazz. What an odd name, yet it sounds kind of cool. Jugram turns back and introduces himself in response, looking intently at the other boy, so strong looking and dressed in fancy clothing. He has to be the son of an important lord. What's a noble doing here, though, so far in the forest and on his own? Nobles rarely show themselves in the village, yet Jugram can't recall seeing one unaccompanied by an armada of guards before, lest a boy his age. This is strange, but what would a commoner know about the life of a noble, anyway? It's not really his problem after all and doesn't need to be.

Bazz certainly talks a lot and asks a lot of questions, and brags a lot, Jugram muses. He holds onto his forearm, lowering his gaze, as if he were being scolded, entertaining the conversation only not to appear rude. It's rude and improper to ignore someone of a higher station to that of yours, right?

But why was he even interested? Why does all of those details matter to him? Why does he have to call him Jugo? Why can't he just leave him alone?

"Ouch…" He hisses in pain, feeling the back of his head hit by a heavy weight. "You can keep it." Bazz-B said, pointing to the rabbit. "I don't need to hunt to eat." Really? Jugram stays still, stunned, unsure why this stranger boy is suddenly helping him. People like Bazz never help people like Jugram.

"Listen up, Jugo. Don't listen to what adults tell you, alright? I'll teach ya' everything you need to know." Bazz continued, throwing at him what at first glance looks like a coin. But it seems to be a brooch. "You and I, let's become the strongest Quincy." He and Bazz becoming strong Quincy together? Teaching everything he needs to know? Would he really do that for him? And does this mean Bazz and he are friends now? Jugram finds himself fills with a foreign warmth at the thought. He's never had a friend before. Maybe running away wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

He picks up the brooch on the grass, careful to put it somewhere safely in his pocket. It looks slightly bruised, but it has to be expensive. He has better not lose it. No one's giving him before, lest for free. And it's a gift from his friend after all, one he would tightly hold onto.

—

Jugram helds onto the stealth of his sword, using the last bit of strength left in him, searching for semblance of warmth left in the long distant memories of summer afternoons in the the forest. Because today it's cold, he's all alone and he's dying. And full of regrets.


End file.
